The Demon He Soared Above
by Torti Quercu
Summary: Natasha returns from a long assignment to find her partner has discovered a way to fly. One-shot, rated cautiously for adult themes. Part of my Demon Series.


Natasha hadn't slept since well before boarding jet in Baku, yet her first stop upon returning to the helicarrier was a small gymnasium on Level 5. She had no idea what she would find there, but the computer had indicated the room had been assigned to Clint Barton over a month ago, so she was curious. Her boots clicked on the metal decks as she hurried, a familiar sound she was surprised to realize she had missed while away. Nowhere had ever felt like home before... was this how belonging somewhere started?

She arrived to find the windows of the gym doors had been covered over and she huffed in irritation. She silently pushed on them to confirm they were locked, then turned her attention to the access controls on the wall. The card-lock didn't yield when she swept her ID through it and she smiled. Barton would, of course, have left her with the challenge. Hacking or brute-force were both options, but she decided to psych it. Barton must have set the code himself... a six-digit code...

With a smirk, she punched in set of numbers and the access pad glowed green. God, he was such a child. She quietly pushed the doors open and walked into...

What the _heck_ was this?

The lights were off, with only the emergency lamps glowing faintly, but it was enough that she could see the gym full of rock climbing walls at strange angles, massive boulders, gymnastic equipment and... were those steeplechase obstacles? As she stared blankly at the set-up in front of her, she heard a peculiar conglomeration of noises: a solid thumping, a swoosh of movement, and a delightfully familiar grunt of exertion she would know anywhere as being from her partner. She took a few steps towards the noises as they culminated in a meaty stomp, and she tried to parse the image as she came close enough to see.

"What the... Clint, are you _pole-vaulting_?"

Her partner spun towards her, and dropped the long pole he was holding as he leapt at her with a whoop. "Holy shit, Tasha! When did you get back?" He scooped her up in an exuberant (if somewhat sweaty) hug and spun her around. She laughed and clutched at his shoulders, smacking him lightly when he put her back onto her feet.

"Just now," she replied, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest that his genuine excitement to see her was triggering.

His brow furrowed. "I was checking the mission schedules, I thought you weren't coming back for another month!"

"Oh, that! I hacked them."

He blinked a couple of times, then smiled slyly. "Natalia Alianova, did you hack your homecoming schedule so that it would be a surprise?"

She snorted. "No. I hacked it so that I wouldn't come back to my quarters full of pink flamingoes or a singing strippergram, Barton."

He laughed, but she was pretty sure that the traces of a blush were creeping up his throat. "Oh oh, speaking of hacking, my door lock...?"

She shook her head. "Please," she rolled her eyes. "As if I needed to. Figured your code on the first try, Hawkeye. 362536."

He was blushing in earnest now, and she smirked at him. "I suppose I should be flattered, though. You've got a hell of a good eye, to have guessed my measurements exactly."

Now it was his turn to smirk. "There was no guessing involved, honey." He quickly hopped backwards to dodge the chastising punch he correctly predicted she would throw after the endearment, and he laughed again. "Come see my new hobby!" he exclaimed happily before she could give him hell, and he reached out to grab her arm and pull her into his obstacle course.

"Pole-vaulting," she replied drily.

"It's not pole-vaulting!" he protested, leaning down and picking up the long staff he had discarded earlier. It looked to be about ten feet long and made of wood. "This is called a _garrote_," he told her, "and not the kind you use around people's necks." His hands moved down the staff to one of the ends, which was covered in a rubber foot. He pulled the rubber off, revealing a large, non-nonsense metal spike at the end.

"Whoa!" Natasha exclaimed, and he beamed.

"Hill isn't letting me use the _regatón_ on the wood floors, that's the spikey bit."

"Gosh, I can't imagine why," his partner teased. "Okay so you have a _garrote_ stick with a huge spike. But why?"

"_Salto del pastor_," Clint sang back at her, wriggling his fingers with a flourish.

"I... er... _what_? The... shepherd's jump?"

"Leap, actually. The Shepherd's Leap, it sounds more poetic that way."

Natasha sighed. "I'm going to have to beat the full story out of you, aren't I?" She cracked her knuckles and he winced.

"Keep your panties on, Nat! Okay so, a couple of months ago I did a training exercise in the Canary Islands. A couple of the locals showed us this crazy thing, _salto del pastor_. The terrain there is very rugged, volcanic rocks with lots of ravines. Hundreds of years ago, the inhabitants needed a quick way to navigate the land as they tended livestock. They used these longs poles to virtually fly across dangerous crevices and even jump down into chasms over 25 feet deep! It's sort of their national sport now."

"So, it's pole-vaulting. For shepherds," she interjected.

Clint wrinkled his nose at her. "Dammit, woman, you have no soul. It was amazing! Francisco could walk up walls and propel himself over the most dangerous terrain, it blew me away. So of course, I had to try it."

Natasha rolled her eyes, and he slid the rubber foot back onto the end of his _garrote_. "You're just dying for a demonstration, aren't you?" he asked her, his tone just on the side of pleading. She couldn't help laugh at his enthusiasm.

"Yes, you caught me. I'm desperately hoping you'll impress me with your big pole."

He waggled his eyebrows and hefted the _garrote_. He took a couple of steps backwards towards his course, planted the pole solidly onto the ground, and... flew.

Clint was a natural acrobat with upper body strength that even she couldn't match, but all the same, Natasha did not expect her jaw would be on the floor. It was one of the most graceful things she had ever seen - her partner was sailing effortlessly up climbing walls and over massive obstacles, using the springy wooden _garrote_ to hurtle across the room in seconds. Occasionally he would add some gymnastics that she doubted were original to the tradition... a flip here and a pike somersault there, his grasp on the long wooden pole never failing. He circled the gym several times before dropping expertly to the ground in front of her.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, showing no signs of exertion.

She stared at him, open-mouthed, causing the corners of his lips to twitch. Impressing the Black Widow? He was pretty sure he'd never managed that before.

"You looked like an angel!" she blurted out, causing Clint's eyes to widen.

"Wow, really? I take it back, you _do_ have a soul!" He pulled her into a tight hug again. She wound her arms around his torso and squeezed him back. "Nat, did I ever miss you! How was Azerbaijan? Did you remember my photo?"

She pulled away and gave him an inscrutable look. "Your... photo?"

He dropped his arms. "Awwww, Tash! You forgot! I asked you to take a picture of yourself at Yanar Dag, remember? The Burning Mountain? It's right outside Baku! I wanted a picture of my fiery partner on the fiery mountain."

She shook her head slowly. "Clint, I don't think it would have been a good idea. What would you do with it? Keep it on your nightstand? Coulson would just love to see that the next time he's in your quarters. I don't know about you, but I sure don't want to sit through another fraternization seminar."

Clint sighed, his heart falling, and pouted. "It would have been worth it."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, then she brightened. "So, are you going to teach me this crazy shepherd's pole-vaulting, or what?"

"Well, I _do_ happen to have an extra _garrote_ here..." he replied, and she smiled. That was more like it. She wasn't sure if she could handle Clint being sentimental right now... not because she didn't want him to be, but because part of her was very concerned that it's all she really wanted. She reached out and grabbed his pike from him. "Alright, Hawkeye. Gimme the basics, then see if you can keep up."

Several hours later, he called their exercise off, partly because she was really starting to look tired and partly because she was meeting and exceeding his skill level just a little too fast for his pride. She didn't put up too much of an argument as he walked her back to her quarters and bid her goodnight. He gave her a quick hug at her door, and continued down the hall to his own room.

He went about his usual bedtime routine: quick shower, boxers, teeth brushed and some relaxing yoga stretches before he grabbed his Kindle and climbed into bed. As he sank down onto his pillow, he felt something odd and he frowned. He lifted the pillow up and was surprised to see a rectangular package, wrapped in shiny blue paper. There was no note or card, but he smiled... only one person would have ever done such a thing and she _did_ just arrive back home.

He slowly pulled the wrapping paper off, and his breath caught in his throat. He was holding a framed photo of his partner. It must have been taken professionally, nighttime at Yanar Dag. It featured Natasha at her absolute most beautiful, standing in front of a towering curtain of fire, her arms outstretched and hands palms up, as though the flames were licking up from them. Her red hair was loose and unruly and her lips were just twisting into the faint smirk that she reserved for him alone. It was the most gorgeous and evocative photo he had ever seen, and his heart was beating furiously. He carefully placed it on his nightstand. He didn't care who saw it or how many seminars they would make him attend... it was going to stay there forever.

He stared at it for several minutes, his emotions a whirlpool, while he tried to parse the picture and what it could mean and what it really meant and... he exhaled deeply. He climbed off his bed and grabbed a t-shirt off his desk as he strode towards the door. He was pulling the shirt over his head as he swung the door open, and nearly stepped right into Natasha. She had obviously been waiting for him.

She gave him an uncustomary shy look, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he murmured back, abandoning his shirt around his neck. She glanced down at his chest, solid with rippled muscle, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Um," she started, half raising her hands to touch him (God, how she wanted to touch him), but unsure how to proceed. "Did you see my picture?"

"Yes," he croaked out drily. "Yeah, I did. Thank you. It's... umm... it's beautiful. You're beautiful."

Her eyes met his and she knew it would all be okay. She pressed her cool palms against his naked torso, and he softly hissed, making her stomach knot in appealing ways. "I missed you too," she whispered.

He leaned his face down towards hers, scanning her for any signs of hesitation. There were none. She tilted her lips up towards his just as he claimed them, weaving his hands into her soft hair while her fingers tightened on his chest. They both moaned softly, simultaneously, causing them both to grin. He pulled his mouth away but kept his hands in her hair.

"Do you wanna come in?" he asked breathlessly, and she blinked several times.

"Yeah," she finally replied, and he beamed at her. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He glanced around the hallway before pulling her into his quarters and shutting the door. "Be gentle with me," he began, "I'm_HMMRF_!"

His comment was stifled as Natasha leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips down on his voraciously. He surrendered immediately, staggering back against the door and groaning as she nipped his lower lip. He splayed his hands across her back, her ass, lifting her up against him and dropping kisses along her throat and ears.

She sighed happily, bringing her hands along either side of his face. He paused, smiling at her. "What were you going to say?" she asked seductively. "Be gentle, you're... what?"

"The luckiest guy in the world," he breathed back at her, and she tightened around him in a full-body embrace. She couldn't wrap her head around it, why he thought that, because she was a fire demon and he was a winged angel... but today, they had flown together, and they would figure it all out... together.


End file.
